Page 12 of Holiday Interference

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But the truth is…

The truth is, I don’t want her to go.

Not to the bed. Not anywhere.

I keep my voice steady. “You sure this isn’t part of your shelter-from-the-storm hero arc?”

Her mouth curves. Not quite a smile, but close. “You sure it’s not?”

I watch her for a long second, something in me loosening without permission.

“Doesn’t feel like an act.”

Her throat works around the swallow.

And just like that, the moment stretches again. Thin. Fragile. Real.

She finally nods and heads for the hallway, leaving behind the soft scent of her shampoo and the echo of her bare feet on my floor.

The couch squeaks under my weight when I sit. I don’t turn on the TV. Don’t check my phone.

Just sit there in the quiet she left behind.

She should feel like a guest.

Temporary. Passing through.

But she doesn’t.

The truth is I’ve had a crush on her since the first time I saw her when Sloane introduced her in the locker room.

But now that I’ve seen her outside of a professional work setting and seen her in my clothes?

I don’t know what to make of the feeling in my chest.

It’s a feeling I don’t want to have because I know where it can lead to, and I never want to feel that pain again.

And that might be the part that scares me most.

CHAPTER FOUR

Noelle

The bed’s too still,too warm, too…not mine.

I’ve fluffed the pillow, shifted the blanket, closed my eyes more times than I can count.

None of it helps.

Not with the way the couch keeps creaking on the other side of the wall.

Not with the guilt crawling up the back of my neck like static.

Creak.

Rustle.

A muffled curse.

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